


Patrick/Reader

by sammo



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:37:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1286332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammo/pseuds/sammo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Patrick/reader fics I've written.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bathroom

ok so i really like the thought of when the band first started like in the van and whatnot they needed a merch girl (petes idea even though they never sold more than 1 shirt) ahgh

/

 "In the van, in the van, we’re back in the van!" Pete sing-songs as he stuffs his bags in the back and piles on top of them. You giggle and Patrick rolls his eyes.

"Stop your singing Pete, you know you’re no good at it." Joe grumps, pushing himself into the driver’s seat. Andy clambers into the passenger seat with a small laugh as he ruffles his large red hair. You let Patrick crawl in and sit by the window, his favorite place as you push the bag of Fall Out Boy shirts into the back, on top of Pete. He screeches and Patrick lets out a laugh. You giggle.

"That landed right on my fucking dick! Patrick don’t laugh! FUCK!" You cover your mouth and Patrick says: "Nice one." After around three hours of singing songs on the radio and laughing and giggles, the sun’s going down. Joe has headphones in and so does Pete. Andy is asleep against the window. The radio is on an oldies channel, lowly playing ‘You’re The One’ by Orrin Tucker. Patrick is tapping his foot to it slightly as he looks out the window.

"Tricky,” you say, laying your head down on his lap. He looks down at you and heat shoots up his neck. He pulls his trucker hat down slightly.

"Hey." he says. He takes a big intake of breath and squirms slightly. He’s getting hard and you can feel it. He must sense that you can because he pushes you off of him quickly and coughs obnoxiously.

It sturs Pete and he takes out a headphone and says, "you okay ‘Trick?"

Patrick licks his lips, holy shit, and nods. “Yeah Pete, just choked on my spit aha.” Pete shrugs and puts his headphone back in. You snicker and lean against the window, putting your arms behind your head. Patrick looks at you, blushes and turns back to the window.

"No need to be embarrassed, Stump," you say, "you’re a teenage boy. I’m a girl. It happens." you crawl over to him and wrap your arms around him and kiss at his neck.

His breath hitches and he grips your wrist. "Stop." he says. "Pete’s not asleep and neither is Joe. No." You poke your bottom lip out and he licks his lips again, then leans in and grabs it between his teeth. You moan and he pulls back and grabs both your wrists. "No no no, no okay? No."

"Gas break!" Joe shouts suddenly, making everyone jump. Andy smacks his shoulder and rubs his eyes with his knuckle. You smirk as the van pulls off the interstate. Patrick gulps hard.

"I gotta use the bathroom," you say, hopping out of the van. You honestly don’t expect Patrick to say, "me too" but he does and it sends chills up your spine. When you enter the gas station Patrick slides a hand to your ass. It makes you jump and Patrick looks at you with such seriousness and it sends heat right to your belly. You enter the bathroom. Slam. Click. And Patrick has you against the sink, digging his surprisingly sharp hip bones into you.

“You can’t pull that shit in the van, Princess.” he attacks your mouth, biting and sucking your lip, “Don’t act like you’re gonna blow a guy, then not do it.” he grips your hips, spins you around so he’s against the sink. He grabs the back of your hair and you grunt. He pulls you in for another kiss, but this one is sweeter, longer, more trusting. He counts your teeth with his tongue and when he pulls away he’s staring at you with half lidded eyes. “I-If you wanna, I mean-”

That’s Patrick all right. Rough one minute, then sappy-sweet the next. You grin and pop the button on his jeans and slide to your knees. The gas station bathroom is mostly clean and smells of bleach but all you can smell is Patrick Patrick Patrick and you slide his pants and boxers down. You look up at Patrick and his face is red and he tentatively puts his hands in your hair. You nod and lick your lips. Patrick moans.

You lean in and give the pink head a small lick and Patrick whimpers. He’s leaking already. You grip the base and slide him into your mouth. He’s hot and heavy and tastes sort of like soap. You take him deep, until your nose is pressed against his pubic hair and your breathe deep. Both to get his scent and so you won’t gag. Patrick’s thighs are shaking and he’s letting out shaky breathes.

“M-more,” he gasps out and you pull back and push him between your lips again, stroking him with your other hand. He pulls your hair slightly, obviously holding back. You pull off with a slick pop, he looks down at you.

"You can pull my hair, Patrick."

"You look beautiful, fuck."

"Patrick, I said-"

Patrick tugs at your hair and you groan. "I heard you." You give him another lick then take him in again, getting used to his thickness and taking him faster, faster. He’s squirming and moaning and gasping and sounds amazing.

You moan around his dick and he tugs your hair. “Hey, fuck, I-I’m gonna, I-”

You pull off and say, “I swallow” then take him down again. That sends Patrick over the edge and his hips stutter and his head bangs around the mirror as he tilts his head back. You swallow him down. He tastes salty and sweet at the same time. You stand up and pull his boxers and pants up with him. He’s ruffled up, his hair a mess and his hat fallen to the ground.

You give him a quick kiss. “Fuck, gimme a minute, fuck.” Patrick is panting and he runs his hands over his face.

You smile and press another kiss to his cheek. "Good?"

"Fuck," is all he says.

You pick up his hat and place is back on his head. Patrick eyes you, and says "do you want me to?" and you shake your head.

"We’ve been in here long enough. The guys are probably waiting on us." Patrick nods and buttons his pants back.

"Thanks, I mean, I- uh-" he’s red again so you kiss him, sweet and slow.

"You still owe me. After the show tonight." you chuckle. Patrick nods fast and grabs your hand, and begins pulling you out of the bathroom. Slam. Click.

And there stands Pete.You hide being Patrick slightly, still gripping his hand. "Really? Really?" Pete says, "Blowjobs in the gas station bathroom? It’s hotel night, couldn’t you wait?" Patrick looks up, his eyebrows knitted together seriously.

"Pete, dude," Patrick says, his voice low and deep (the voice that makes you wetter than you already are), "she fucking swallows."

Pete’s eyes go wide and he gives the two of you a bright, trademark Pete Wentz smile. "Well! Nevermind then! Good on you ‘Trick, baby!" Pete leans in and only half-whispers, "Care to share?" Patrick laughs and wraps his arms around you, protectively, “Nah.”


	2. (Fuck What Ya Heard) You're Mine

Fuck Patrick Stump. Just, fuck him, fuck him. 

He’s all you can think about as you’re being shoved by Caleb (maybe Chris? You can’t remember) against the side of the tour bus. The words “Fall Out Boy” loom over you and you’ve never hated the string of words more. 

They remind you of the voice, him, the one guy too fucking wrapped up in a melody or a cluster of words to notice how much you want him. You thought maybe he was gay, at first, as much as that hyperactive bassist was constantly practically begging Patrick to let him get on his knees for him, but you’d seen him with girls. Kissing them, stroking his knuckles over their soft cheek bones, pushing hair behind their ear. Gag. Puke. Spit.

It’s not you, so who cares?

You do not care. Sure, you think, sure. 

Caleb/Chris’ hot tongue is in your mouth. He’s practically trying to swallow you and it’s disgusting and horrible- but hey, what have you got to lose? You’re on this tour as a damn carry-on. You’re nothing to him. And it hurts. It really really fucking hurts.

Or…maybe that’s just the bus’ gas tank pressing into your hip.

"Hey," you huff hard, licking your lips. It’s all for show. "Wanna go inside? The guys, the boys, they’re out on the town we got at least-" you make up a unit of time, you don’t care, "an hour." Caleb/Chris nods, licks his lips. He probably will try to steal something of Pete’s to sell on e-bay. Maybe you’ll let him.

As soon as you’re pushed inside, your shorts are off. You don’t really remember them coming undone, or being kick off your feet, but they’re gone. You're on your back on the bus’ couch. 

This guy, he’s on top of you. His hands are up your shirt. You moan. It’s fake, but you do it. You want to humor Caleb…or Chris.

Whatever. 

You don’t even hear the door open, and maybe you wouldn’t have faked that fucking moan if you had. Maybe you would’ve jumped up, pulled your shorts on, screaming: “What the fuck, can a girl not sleep- holy SHIT!” but you don’t. You lay there as Caleb/Chris shoots up, his belt unbuckled and his hair askew. He’s not even unattractive, this guy. 

You feel kind of bad now. He could get a girlfriend, a good one, who loves him and waits for the day that he’ll get down on one knee and put a ring around her finger. Instead he’s with you. Bummer.

"What the absolute fuck?” Patrick’s loud, screaming. His pudgy face is red, and he’s twitching a bit. Pete and Dirty are at the door. Dirty’s eyebrow is raised and Pete’s eyes are wide, his thick mouth dropped open slightly. Caleb/Chris stutters out a: “dudes, hey- big fan, really! I know this looks bad, but come on you’re guys! You know you want to get laid, ya know dude!” you almost groan. He’s just another band boy. Just what you need.

"Listen, fuckwad-" Patrick spits.

"It’s, uh, It’s Darren actua-"

"I don’t give a fucking hell what your name is!" You were way off on the name thing, "Get the fuck off this bus. You better be lucky I’m letting you go to this show, asshole!" 

Patrick’s fists are balled up. You still don’t have any shorts on. You’re still laid back, propped up on your elbows. Maybe Patrick will kick you off the tour. Maybe you don’t care. Maybe, just maybe, it’s the only way to get over this thing. Whatever it is.

"Dude, she’s not your chick.” Darren says, kind of angry now, “she’s free to be with whoever she wants. I don’t see what I did wrong. I got consent, motherfucker, she invited me on this bus.”

"He’s got a point," you say, finally, "I did invite him back. He did get-"

"You," Patrick grits out, "you shut your goddamn mouth, you hear me?" He looks back at Darren. 

"Leave. Now. Or I’ll get an escort."

Darren huffs out a “wow fuck dude”, and turns to me. “Sorry, babe. After the show maybe?”

"OUT!" Patrick bellows, so loud it makes you jump. Pete and Dirty are gone now. Darren leaves. The bus door slams shut. Slam. Gag. Puke. Spit.

Patrick rubs his face, sits down at my feet. You sit up now. You don’t bother putting on shorts.

"Patrick, what the hell is wrong with you?" You say. This isn’t a rhetorical question. Just pure confusion.

Patrick lifts his trucker cap, ruffles his reddish brown hair, slides it back on. You want to run your fingers through that hair, grip it as your riding him in a California King Bed in some fancy hotel suite. You almost shiver.

"Me?" his voice is raw from screaming, and god it shouldn’t turn you on this much, "what the hell is wrong with you? Bringing guys on the bus?"

"Pete fucked that chick right on this couch while you were in your bunk. The sex isn’t what’s bothering you." 

He ignores you completely. “Did you even have a fucking condom? What if you got pregnant on this tour huh? I promised your mom I’d keep you safe out here.”

"I had a condom."

"What if he took advantage of you?"

"I gave him consent."

"What he’d killed you?”

"You have money for a lawyer." You smile. Patrick shoots you a look.  
"Not funny." he smiles a little. He thought it was a little funny.

"So, really, what’s the deal? There was no problem with me hooking up right then. You could’ve left. Could have shut the door. Could have told Pete and Dirty I was fuckin’ and that would’ve been the end of i-"

"No!" Patrick turns to you now, grips your forearms, shoves his face into your neck. His breath is hot and it goes straight to your lower belly. You groan a little, "you don’t understand, that wouldn’t have been the end of it." he places a small kiss, right on your pulse. It makes your head buzz, makes you feel like bees have invaded your brain. The bees shoot out your ears as he places another kiss. You hear yourself hum. "Don’t you see?" Patrick places kisses lower, lower, "If I had known that you- an-and that guy. Here. On this couch, I could never," kiss, shiver, shaky breath, "sit here again. The thought of him inside you, pounding into you," he bites your collar bone skin, and fuck fuck holy shit, "it makes me fucking furious. You’re mine. Ever since we we’re teenagers. You were mine." you let out a grunt. 

That’s when Patrick’s hands are everywhere, all at once. He’s pulling your shirt off, kissing down your body- sucking, licking, moaning into your skin and it feels like your high. 

Your head is dreamy and everything is intensified. This time, the moans aren’t fake. When Patrick slides his throbbing, already leaking cock into you it’s all real. The moans and the sighs are so loud in your ears that you can’t hear anything else. It’s all "oh yes" and "fuck, more, harder" and "god, I love you I love you". 

"I’m going to come." you say, and for the first time you hear how blown out your voice is. You sound well fucked, and it’s all because of Patrick. He grabs the back of your hair, hard and pulls you eye-to-eye with him. He’s still thrusting hard, one hand on your hip as he’s rubbing your clit with his thumb.

"Yeah?" he says, tilting his head- smirking. You want to smack him, tell him he’s the one sweating like an asshole but you don’t because he says: "Then do it." and hits that place inside of you that has your back arching and your legs tightening around his waist. Patrick’s hips stutter as you’re coming back and he groans, huffs, hums. 

You’re sweaty and he’s sweaty and it should be disgusting but it isn’t. It’s the best you’ve felt in a long time.  
"Holy shit," you say, "what the fuck." Patrick chuckles, leans up and slides his boxers on. His cheeks are still red and his hair is everywhere. You huff again and lean down to grab your underwear but Patrick grabs your wrist.

"Was this okay?" he says, seriously, "I didn’t- was this a…Is this okay?"  
You pull Patrick down and crash your lips together, slow, sweet, savory. He’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. It’s addictive and you want more, more, more.

"This, yeah, this is okay." Patrick smiles shyly, bites his lip and you nuzzle him.

"So…are we?"

"Yeah, please, if you want."

"Yeah."

There’s a long silence, but it’s comfortable considering you’re still naked. You finally sit up and slide on your underwear. You pick up Patrick’s shirt, slide it over your head. You turn to look at him. He’s looking at you the way Princes look at Princesses in movies and your heart swells. It feels like you’re going to hack it up when Patrick stands, wraps you in a hug. You don’t even realize your crying until Patrick says: “holy shit, what’s wrong baby?”

You sniffle, kiss him on the side of his mouth and laugh. “I just want you to fuck me in the California King Bed, Patrick.” Patrick looks at you, with this mix of adoration and confusion and he just kisses you like you’re his only source of air.

// later //

You’re curled up with Patrick, the sky is as dark as liquid ink. Patrick’s playing some game on his DS and you’re reading something about a ghost being found in some Chicago hotel. 

"So!" Pete stumbles through the bus, sits down across from us. Patrick raises an eyebrow, then looks back at the DS. You turn another page. "Are you two like…together? Together together?"

"Yes, Pete." Patrick shuts his DS, and you figure that’s your cue to shut the book, "We are." Pete bites at his thumb nail, eyes us, then nods.

"Okay! Ya know, I just- I don’t want- gah," Pete ruffles his flat ironed hair. He’s attractive in a way, with his plump lips and bright brown eyes. You can see why girls like him. You see him more as a brother though, maybe Patrick’s brother. Sister In-law. That’s you. "I just don’t want fucking paparazzi fucking this up for you two, that’s all." Pete says. His eyes are big, round; puppy-like.  
"Pete," you say, "are you…trying to be sincere here?" Pete grins.

"Yes yes, exactly! Not good with the emotions and whatnot."

"C’mere." You say and Pete comes rushing towards you, wraps you in a hug. 

"I’M JUST SO HAPPY FOR YOU TWO!" he fake sobs. Patrick leans over, smacks him. You laugh.

"Don’t worry about us, Peter." Patrick says, patting his shoulder, "With you around, wearing your furry boots and your dorky hats, you’re enough personality to outshine us."

Pete grins, then frowns, then scowls. “And one more thing,” he says, “if you’re going to fucking on this bus, at least have the decency to stay kinda quiet, wouldja? I could hear you,” he points to you and you blush, “over Andy’s drum solo.”


	3. Phantom of the Opera

Lips slide up your neck, fingers tug at the waist band of your pants and someone gasps in your ear. There’s grunts and moans but then someone is shaking you. 

Your eyes slide open and you’re slightly sweating. You really wish you’d stop having dreams like that. You blink and it takes you a few seconds to realize, hey, I’m not alone right now. Someone is on top of you and their leaning right above your face. You gasp and a hand goes over your mouth.

"Hey," the voice says, and you sigh against the palm and push it away.

"Patrick, it’s-" you turn and glance at your alarm clock, "3 in the morning, what are you doing here?" Patrick’s pupils are big and he’s gazing at you intently. 

"Run away with me." he says, his voice low but not really whispering.  
"What? I- to where? For how long? We have school." You prop yourself up on your elbows. 

Patrick has barely moved. He’s barely breathing it seems like. You place the back of your hand on his forehead. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"

Patrick grips your hand and kisses the back of it. “No, I just want you to myself tonight. I miss you a lot.” You feel yourself flush and you pull 

Patrick down for a soft kiss then roll out of bed. You pull on the pants you wore to school the day before that were still laying in your floor. Patrick’s already at your window, one leg out.

"If my parent’s kill me, you’re paying for the funeral." you say, following Patrick onto the roof. Patrick hops down, no problem. You peer over the ledge at him. He’s looking up at you, eyes wide; innocent.

"Uhh,"

Patrick opens his arms, “come on! I’ll catch you!”

"Patrick, you couldn’t catch a cold on an iceberg."

Patrick makes an unamused face at you, and you giggle. “Just jump and I’ll get you, okay? Swear.” you grin and you push yourself off the side and fall into Patrick. He kisses your temple and carries you to the car; he places you in the passenger seat.

 

For a while you’re just driving,   
listening to music and babbling to Patrick about singers and guitarists and bassists and drummers, but eventually your eyes are droopy and you’re slumped against the window.  
Patrick rubs your back. “Go ahead and sleep, dear.” you hear him fiddle with the radio, and a sax flows through the speakers. Patrick’s humming along, his voice low. It easily puts you to sleep.  
—  
You awake to the sound of the car being put in park, a loud ckk-chh making you jump slightly. “Hey,” 

Patrick says, “you awake?” he puts a hand on your hip and you sit up, yawning. You look out the window. The sun is starting to come up. You can tell because you can see the tip of the sun so close it feels like you could walk forward and touch it. Sunrise. He brought you here to see a fucking sunrise.

"Trick’, where are we?" you ask, your mouth open slightly. You look at Patrick and he’s fidgeting, blushing, stammering. "Patrick." you say again, knitting your eyebrows together.

"Green Bay," Patrick mutters, rubbing his neck. You grip the middle console.

"As in Green Bay-fucking-Wisconsin?"

"Maybe."

"Patrick Martin Stump! We have school-" you glance at the car’s clock, 6:34, "now!"

Patrick chews his lip and says:   
"hey, look."

"Patrick, we’re going to get fucking killed- I-"

"Hey, will you just look?" he pushes your face slightly, so you’re looking out the windshield and- oh, okay. The sunrise is bright orange, with smudges of purples and blues surrounding it. It makes your heart dip into your stomach and then back up into your throat and you choke. Patrick looks at you and his smile drops and he encloses you in a tight hug. "Hey hey, why are you crying?" you wrap your arms around Patrick’s broad shoulders and dig your face into his neck, inhale him, take him in. You want to be so close to him. You want to crawl into his skin. You want to be one, but you can’t, so you just hold him tighter.

"You-" you let out a small chuckle/sob, "you’re just such a fucking dumb romantic and I fucking love you." Patrick chuckles and places soft kisses up your neck. It makes you shiver and Patrick slides his hand up your jean-cladded leg and presses his thumb into your hip.

"And I love fucking you, so I guess   
we’re sorta even," you thump Patrick in the back of the head. He cackles into your mouth and bites at your bottom lip.

"Back seat?" you mumble, leaning back to let Patrick nibble at your collar bone. Patrick bites down and you groan.

He moans: “yeah, okay”. You crawl into the back and Patrick is on top of you, all over you at once. He’s leaning down, biting and kissing at your stomach and your hands are in his hair. You pull it and he groans, coming up to shove his hot tongue in your mouth. He presses his erection into your inner thigh and you gasp: “fuck, Patrick.”

Patrick chuckles darkly and runs his lips over your neck, and sucks on your ear. You huff. “You’re a sucker for love.” he chuffs.

"You’re a sucker for dick." you grunt, pressing yourself into his bulge. He hisses and groans. That must be all he can take because before you can take another breath he’s shoving your pants down, tangling his fingers in your underwear and pushing them down. You hum slightly as he begins rubbing you, while also trying to undo his belt. You lean up and do it for him, pushing his Levis and boxers down in quick motion. 

"Condom?" you moan as Patrick slides a finger into you. Patrick nods against your lips and pulls a blue packet out of the back pocket of his jeans. You sit up on your elbows. "Why do you just HAPPEN to have that? Did you plan this?" 

Patrick shrugs, sliding the latex on. “I thought sex in front of the sunrise was romantic! Like ‘The Notebook’ or ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ or some shit.” He grips your hips and easily slides into you.

"Well, fuck ah, you certainly are the Angel of Music, Stump." He slowly begins fucking you and you grip his hair, moaning. "Your voice is like fucking heaven."

Patrick chuckles beathily, “I’ll kidnap you,” hard thrust, “take you to the cellars.”

You let out a half moan/half laugh and push yourself down onto Patrick, harder; faster. “Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour.” you say, breathily. 

Patrick nibbles at your ear, moans; thrusts harder and harder, “Grasp it, sense it - tremulous and tender.” you kiss him and you laugh into each other’s mouths. 

"Oh god, I love you- fuck, I- I’m-" Patrick’s babbling and you lean up and bite his lip. Heat pools into your belly and you groan. Your hips stutter and Patrick faulters with a small grunt. He pulls out and you wince, but he kisses your cheek. He takes off the condom, wraps it up and tosses it out the cracked window.

"Litter." you say. Patrick shrugs, kisses you slow and deep. You smile into it, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulls back, laughing. He’s laughing hard. You slide your panties up (you don’t know why you’re suddenly feeling self-conscious, he was inside you for God’s sake). "What?" you spit.

"Did we seriously fucking quote Phantom of the Opera to each other while we fucked?" he’s cackling and you giggle slightly, it was kinda silly, "Oh man, wait til’ I tell Pete. He’s gonna be so jealous that we quoted such-" Patrick mimics Pete’s low and stoner-y voice, "deep and meaningful shit man". Patrick lets out another laugh and now you’re laughing and the sun’s up and you’re just so damn happy. 

Patrick finally slides up and his boxers (you blush, he smirks, you smack him), and his pants. You pull up yours, not bothering to button them and crawl into his lap. You want to mold into him and it really sometimes hurts that you can’t. 

“Say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you’ll want me with you here beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too. Christine, that’s all I ask of…" Patrick quotes, rubbing shapes into your back.

You smile into Patrick’s cheek. “Say you love me every waking moment. Turn my head with talk of summertime. Say you need me with you now and always. Promise me that all you say is true. That’s all I ask of you.” you mumble into his skin.

"This is so cheesy. I feel like a mozzarella stick." Patrick spats. You laugh so loud it hurts your ears.


	4. Mission

When you slide into Patrick’s bunk, your person mission starts. It’s 2:48 am, and you’re horny and you’re going to do something about it. 

You crawl over Patrick and lift up his blanket and crawl under, tangling your legs with his. He’s only in his boxers and a black Metallica t-shirt that’s been washed so many times that the letters are barely readable.  
"Nrggh?" Patrick murmurs and he rolls over. His hand moves around in the dark, "Pete? Dude, no more bunk sharing. I know y-" and his hand comes down and rests in your bare hip. His fingers brush the hem of your underwear and he goes stone still.

"Not Pete." You whisper, running your foot up his bare thighs and pressing your thigh against the front of his boxers.

Patrick lets out a shuddery breath and says, “N-no, not Pete, nope.” You laugh a little at that and scoot closer to him, sliding your hand up his chest and tilting his face up with your finger. You place your lips close to his and breathe heavily on his mouth.

"I really want you inside me." You huff out, sliding your hand across his cheek. You lean in, bite his bottom lip and he sighs against your mouth and mutters: "Christ, fuck" and kisses you hard. He pushes his tongue into your mouth and tastes you while letting out these fucking amazing groans. You slide on top if him, grind down on his obvious bulge and gasp, throwing your head to the side.

“Don’t want to fucking dry hump like a teenager.” He spits, and grips the hem of your underwear and tanks them down. He puts on hand on your hip and rubs your clit with the other. You moan and grind against his hand as he slides a finger inside of you. “If you’re going to let me fuck you, I’m going to do it good.” You let out a whimper as he slides another finger in. He scissors slightly, hits that spot, and you huff hard and flail slightly.

"Patrick, come on, shit."

You slide back down beside him and he reaches down into his bag at the bottom of the bunk. He lets out a “yes!” when a finds a condom, and you giggle. He slides his shirt off and you watch, wide eyed. Seeing Patrick so unclothed is surprising to you but he’s so pale and so beautiful. You want to mark every bit of skin.

"Stop staring," he flushes, "I know I’m not the skinniest human but I-"

"Shut up." You growl and push him into his back. You grab the condom out of his fingers and slide his boxers down. He’s leaking pre-cum so you roll the condom on easily. 

Patrick quickly unhooks your bra from behind and begins mouthing at your neck and you hiss out "fuck."

He palms your breasts then moves to your hips, pushing them up then sliding you down onto him. He’s big and kind of hurts at first, but Patrick lets out a beautiful groan and shifts around until he finally hits that spot. 

After that there’s a lot of grunting and cursing and sweating. Patrick's whispering "fuck baby, yeah" and "shit, you should see yourself" and "god, fuck, your gorgeous" and "want to come inside of you".

You find out that when Patrick comes, he bites that juicy bottom lip he’s got. It’s a sight made for porn.

"So," Patrick rolls over and splays his hand across your lower belly, lazily drawing circles with his thumb, "what got you all flustered tonight?"

You shrug and roll over, curling into him. “You can’t masturbate on this bus without someone walking in on you. It was more pent up sexual tension. “

"Sexual tension? Between you and me?" He laughs.

"You and I, actually, yes." Patrick elbows you slightly and you chuckle into his neck, biting playfully. "Also…love you. Some. "

Patrick nuzzles your hair, kisses the top of tour head. “Love you…some more. Yeah.” You can feel him smile and you fall asleep doing the same.  
-  
The next morning you’re in bed alone but the smell of Patrick surrounds you completely. It’s all silent until you hear Pete’s feet hit the floor and he’s yelling: “Patrick!! I totally heard you and ya’ girlie doin’ the nasty! Nice!”


	5. MTV Award Nominee

”Patrick,” you giggle and push him away, “stoooop, noo-” he’s giggling too and trying to pull at your hair when Pete walks into the tour bus’ living room where you two are. 

“Rick ta’ Life, I got news home boy,” Pete says smiling, puffing out his chest and crossing his arms. Patrick pulls back and cocks an eyebrow at you, then his friend.

“Yes, Pete? And what is it?” Patrick says cautiously, knowing Pete could pounce any minute.

Pete balls up his fists and does a tip-tap dance on his toes, “we’re fucking going to the MTV awards dude, we’ve made it!” Patrick’s eyes go wide and he smiles, shooting up to hug Pete. Patrick releases Pete and turns around and grips your hips, pulling you up into his arms and kissing your face multiple times.

“I’m dating an MTV award nominee, how cute.” You laugh an Pete says: “MTV award WINNER!”

That night Patrick, you, and the rest of the guys go out for drinks to celebrate. Gabe and William even show up with party poppers and two strippers (to which Gabe insists that she give you a lap dance. You allow it, feeling buzzed and giggly. Patrick is sitting behind you nipping at your neck as the stripper pushes her large breasts in your face, so that’s a plus.)

When you get back to the bus you fall asleep on the couch in front as soon as you hit it, but you’re pretty sure you feel a soft cheek resting on your thigh as you drift to sleep.

//

“Hey, sweetie, wake up. We gotta go shopping, hey,” When your eyes slide open, Patrick’s gently shaking you. Your hangover isn’t horrible, barely noticeable at least and you feel great. Shopping with Patrick is awesome because you usually end up trying on something provocative and making him blush (which you like), to which he takes you back to the bus and fucks you (which you LOVE).

Yet once you get ready and pull your hair up, Patrick’s on a mission. He enters the suit store and rummages through the hangers nervously. You place a hand on his lower back and he jumps. “You alright?” You say quietly, “you’re so…fidgety today.” Patrick kisses your temple and sighs.

“Just nervous. Mom’s gonna be seeing us on tv. Wanna look nice for her, and you….and tv. I guess.” You smile and pull out your cell phone, kissing Patrick’s cheek.

“I’ll get us some help,” you say and punch numbers in on your phone.

//

“Gabe? Your getting Gabe to help us?” Patrick rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, typically sassy pose for him.

“Hey! Gabe is the snazziest dresser I know!” You say. Patrick rolls his eyes again. “Okay, so the neon clothes phase doesn’t count. Shut up."

“Come on, trick’ babe. You know I got this suit thing down to a tee.” Gabe winks at you and you blush, giggling.

Patrick grasps your hand and hisses: “your stupid Gabe-crush thing isn’t helping, either. ” you shush him by sticking your tongue in his mouth. Behind you, you hear Gabe gag.

//

After waiting patiently in a chair and reading some teen magazine (total pictures of Pete Wentz In A Magazine sent to Pete Wentz via mobile: 5), Gabe taps you on the shoulder. “We are ready for sexy suit man to show himself.” He smirks. You stand up and follow him to the dressing room “Alright Patrick Stump! Show yourself!” Gabe waves his arms in a spazzing way.

Patrick slowly opens the door, looking out at you. He grins and little and walks out, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it with his hands behind his back. You blush a little. He looks sexy and you’re flustered. You huff a little but cock an eyebrow. 

“Daaaaaaamn, daddy.” You grin, placing your hands on your hips and examining him, “looking fuckable. Totes fuckable.”

Patrick flushes hard and pulls his hat down slightly, murmuring “shut up.” He’s smiling though. Gabe gags again, but he’s laughing as he does so. 

//

“Did you mean what you said today?” Sharp teeth bite into your bottom lip and calloused hands grip your hips hard. “About the suit, I mean,” Patrick murmurs, “did I look okay?” He presses himself against you, and fuck- friction, glorious friction. 

You groan, “fuck yes,” Patrick bites your neck, “wanted you to bend me over right there.”

Patrick sighs, “fucking Jesus,” against your neck and thumbs at the hem of your jeans. You sit up and go to pull your shirt off when Patrick bends down and bites and sucks at your belly. 

“Shit,” you huff, “yeah,” and he nibbles at your hip bone and pulls your jeans down around your thighs. He sucks the inside of your thigh and runs a finger over your clothed center. You buck up slightly and Patrick chuckles against your leg. 

“Fuck you,” you growl and put a hand his hair; you pull it. 

“With my mouth?” Patrick huffs. You nod and huff out small ‘yeah’s. Patrick slides your panties down your thighs and attaches his mouth to you, licking all the way up and sucking your clit. 

“Damn, goddammit-” you hiss, grabbing Patrick’s locks between your fingers. Patrick chuckles again and you dig your heel into his lower back. 

“Be a good girl,” Patrick leans up with his bottom lip pink and swollen, “and let me finish. What was that you called me earlier? Daddy?”

“I was joking,” you puff, “but fuck, keep going and I’ll call you anything you want, baby.” Patrick bites your leg then leans in and tongues your clit roughly, sucking and nibbling. He slides his fingers into you as well, keeping up a good rhythm. 

Goddamn drummer boys. 

Soon, you’re stomach tightens and you’re coming. Patrick hums against you, only making your body more electrified.

You lick your lips and look down at Patrick who’s palming himself through his sweat pants. You crawl to him, kiss him hard, and palm him through the fabric. It’s damp from precum already and Patrick groans in your ear. “No underwear?” You chuckle and Patrick grunts, “that’s such a Pete thing to do.”

“Do not,” he huffs, “talk about Pete while you’re jerking me off.” You laugh and shove your hand down his pants, tugging at him. It only takes a couple pulls and he’s coming with a loud moan. You hope everyone fully asleep in the next hotel room. You pull your hand out and begin licking it clean, sucking your fingers. “Shit, baby, don’t do that. We just got done and that’s so,” he huffs and you grab and a tissue and wipe the rest off. 

Patrick wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you down, wrapping himself around you. You curl into him and he says, “wait til I see you in a dress. We won’t be leaving this hotel room for a good 9 hours." you giggle and bite your lip. You can't wait.


	6. Hometown

"So how did you enjoy meeting my parents?" 

You're laying in bed next to Patrick, your back against his clothed chest. He's stroking your hip with his thumb and talking low into your ear. You shrug slightly. "It was good. I didn't expect your mom to like me so much. Mom's are usually protecting of their little boys." 

Patrick chuckles and you can feel the vibration through your entire body. "She knows I love you, so she was easy on you. Dad thinks you're the shit, though." 

You laugh and place your hand over Patrick's where it's sitting on your hip. There's a pause of silence and Patrick says: "It's weird. You being here in my childhood bed. This is where I played with Ninja Turtle toys and now you're here." You blush as you start to feel Patrick's calloused hand drift carefully down your thigh. 

"Patrick," you say warningly, "we're in your parents house." Patrick scoots closer to you and presses himself against you. His hand drifts down and begins rubbing at you through your underwear and you gasp. 

Patrick huffs in your ear. "It's not like I never had girls in this bed before. I was a teenager too, ya know." He rubs faster and you pant and whimper. 

"That shouldn't, ah, make me as jealous as it does." You growl and turn onto your back, leaning up to kiss Patrick hard on the mouth. Patrick grunts against your lips and shoves his hand down your panties, sliding one finger into you. You moan against Patrick's mouth and Patrick puts a finger in your mouth. 

"Hush darling, fuck, my parents still aren't keen on me finger fucking girls in their home." You suck eagerly on his fingers and Patrick groans, staring at you with blown pupils and wet lips. He slides another finger into you, pumping faster and you reach down to rub yourself as he's doing so. 

"Gorgeous," Patrick pulls his fingers from your mouth and grabs at your hair, "fucking gorgeous- love you," he kisses you slow and deep and hits that spot over and over inside you until you're gasping into his mouth and coming around his fingers. 

You lay there panting and Patrick pulls his fingers out and wipes them against his shirt. You push Patrick back onto his back and crawl over him, straddling his hips and placing wet kisses down his neck. You suck lightly and he palms at your ass, huffing at your touch. 

"Gonna blow you now," you smirk, "so be quiet for me, alright?" Patrick lets out a little squeak and you giggle, crawling down his legs. You lick at him through his boxers and Patrick's head thumps against his pillow. 

"God fucking damn," he pants, "I fingered you, stop being a tease." You look at him and pout and he snarls, puts a fist in your hair. "Don't make me do it for you."

You wag a finger at him. "You only get to fuck my mouth when I want it. I'm not calling you daddy in your parents house, anyway." Patrick pulls his nose up into a grimace and nods, agreeing. 

He lets go of your hair and traces your face with his finger. "Still gorgeous," he smirks again. You grin at him, all teeth, and pull his boxers down and attach your mouth to him. He lets out a swift breath, like he's been kicked in the stomach. You lick from his shaft to the tip and suck on it, sliding a hand down your own panties to rub at yourself while doing so. 

"Fuck, fuck, princess, fuck," Patrick murmurs, running his hands through your hair. You start pumping him faster, sliding all the way down until you feel yourself start to gag, then pulling back. When Patrick's breath hitches and he spasms slightly, you feel hot come pool into your mouth. Usually you'd smack him for not warning you but your to busy swallowing and coming around your own fingers with a groan.

Patrick pulls you up to him and places kisses on your neck and slides his hands up your shirt to grip at your hips. "Love you, love you," he murmurs against your mouth and you smile. 

"Love you more," you say, tracing his jaw with your nose and laying your head in the crook of his neck. 

"Not possible." He says groggily and that's when you fall asleep. 

\--

Breakfast with the Stumph family the next morning is awkward, considering you heard Patrick's dad tell Patrick to be "a little quieter next time" and Mrs. Stump keeps smirking at you over her coffee cup. 

Patrick just places his hand on your knee and smiles like he's in pain.


	7. Pete's Not Yours, Never Will Be (All You Are Is Mine)

When you caught Patrick grinding against some girl by his bunk, whispering dirty things in her ear, you were furious. You had pushed back the curtain, caught them and they didn't even stop. The girl, who was fake moaning obviously, saw you though. She just just grinned and let out another explicit moan. She was hot, too, which made you want to punch her right in the fucking face. You would've, too, if Patrick hadn't been sucking it. 

"Just...what the fuck? Patrick isn't the type to sleep around and shit." Now, you're leaning against Pete, your forehead on his shoulder with his arm around your waist. You're both sitting on the empty tour bus, sipping beers. "Why would he do that? I mean he knows if he wanted to get off he could just-"

"Whoa now," Pete grunts, "I don't want to hear ANYTHING about getting Patrick off, EVER. But...maybe you could do the same thing he did to you, ya know?" You look up at Pete and cock your head. 

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Patrick made you jealous right? By sucking face with some bitch?"

"I wasn't jealous, damn." You cross your arms and bite your lip. Pete just cackles. 

"Whatever you say, dude. But do you wanna make Trick jealous or not?"

You blush. "How do you even know he'll get jealous? He doesn't like me so it doesn't-"

"Oh ho ho, Patrick likes you. I know for a fucking fact he does."

You draw back quickly, blushing harder. "What, how do you-?"

"Quick fact," Pete giggles, "once I heard him jerking off and moaning your name. I didn't say anything though." You grin and bite your lip. 

"Well if I'm going to be making him jealous, we're going to have to go all out."

"By doing what exactly?"

You hear the door swing open, and Patrick walks onto the bus. "Hey guys have you seen my-" you lean forward quickly and grip Pete by the face, and kiss him hard. It's sloppy and wet and Pete grunts a little by surprise. You try to make it look like you've been doing this for a while by sliding your tongue in his mouth. What would Patrick want you to do to him? What would he get mad about? You push a hand through Pete's hair and pull back, wiping your mouth. 

"Sorry," you mumble pushing away from Pete (who's just gaping and licking his lips), "sorry I thought you were out I didn't-"

"No, no it's- uh- it's cool I was just, uh. Bye." Patrick's face goes red and he escapes quickly. You turn to Pete and laugh a little. 

"Sorry. Didn't mean to attack your mouth. Gotta start ASAP I guess?" Pete just smirks and takes another swig of his beer. 

"Who taught you to kiss like that?"

//

When you wake up the next morning, you automatically go to the kitchenette for pop tarts. You're starving. Pete sits up on the couch and rubs his eyeliner clad eyes. "Pop tarts?" He says. 

"Marshmellow. Strawberry, if ya nasty." You smirk. Pete laughs and stands up, stretching. He walks over to grab a pop tart when Patrick shuffles into the room. You catch a glance at him. His hair is sticking up and his lips are pink. His eyes are still sleepy and-fuck, he's perfect. You feel a hand reach around your waist and you turn to Pete. He jerks his eyes Patrick and kisses your cheek. 

Patrick coughs awkwardly. "Um, goodmorning. Uh, can I talk to you?" Patrick grasps your hand and your turn to him. His eyes are glassy. 

"Sure," you blush at his touch and he pulls you behind the bunk curtains. 

He grasps your hips hard and pushes you against the bed frame. "What the fuck are you doing with Pete?" 

You cock an eyebrow, "excuse me?" Patrick glares at you and purses his lips. 

"You and Pete? Are you together now? What the fuck?"

You shrug, "were just trying it out ya know. Experimenting. Trying new things. It's better than bringing some, I don't know, random stranger or something." You side-eye Patrick and he shakes his head at you. 

"Is that why you're doing this? Because I brought some girl here? We didn't even fuck, she just sucked me off. Why do you care anyway?" You punch Patrick in the chest and push him away. 

"Fuck you, I'm not doing anything."

"Except Pete right?"

"What's that matter to you huh?"

"Well have you? Have you fucked Pete?" Your face is red and you huff hard.

"Yeah I have," you spit, "he fucked me hard and I sucked his cock so fuck off. "

Patrick's face turns white and then red in the blink of an eye and he grabs you and presses himself up against you hard. You can feel his hard-on through his pants and you grunt. He grabs you by your hair roughly and jerks you to meet his gaze. Patrick breathes heavily in your face and you can hear your heart beating. You bite your lip and Patrick pulls back, shaking his head. 

"Sorry," he puffs, "I'm, I-" and he runs off the bus. You bite your lip and sit down, running your hands over your face. You sigh hard and crawl into Patrick's bunk, pulling his pillow to you and spooning it. You inhale Patrick's scent and feel a tear run down your face. Slowly, you fall asleep.

//

"H-hey. What're you doing in here?" You feel someone shaking you slightly and you jolt awake. "Hey, hey it's just me," Patrick's soft voice drifts over you like a warm blanket and...so does he. He crawls into the bunk and crawls on top of you, placing your face in his hands. 

"Pete told me about everything. You're too fucking cute." He leans in and kisses you softly, placing his hands on your sides and tracing your curves softly.

"I'm sorry," you mumble into his mouth, "I'm sorry I made you mad I, that girl-"

"That girl," Patrick whispers against your lips, "stole my hat to sell on eBay. We didn't do anything besides make out." You shakily breathe against Patrick's mouth and he licks at your bottom lip. 

Patrick's hand is rough as he slowly slides it up your shirt. His calloused fingers brush against your nipple and you groan slightly, arching into his touch. "Fuck, you're so, fuck." Patrick huffs, reaching down and kissing you roughly. He slides his hand down and rubs you through the lacy fabric of your panties. 

You grip Patrick by the collar of his shirt and arch again, biting your bottom lip and trying not to be too loud. 

"Goddamn it," Patrick pulls you up onto his lap and bites at your neck and you sigh, leaning into it, "put some pants on."

You lean back and stare at Patrick. His lips are red and his pupils are blown and he's breathing heavy. Your hands slide down his chest and you swallow. "Excuse me?"

"Put some pants on," Patrick swats at your ass and you bite at your lip, "I'm taking you to a hotel."

"What? Why?" You ask, grabbing your sweatpants from the bottom of the bunk and sliding them on. 

"Because," Patrick runs a hand through your hair and chuckles low into your ear, "I want to make love to you in a big bed all night until the sun comes up. Can we do that?"

"Fuck," you groan, "please." Patrick pulls you out of the tour bus and waves down a cab. 

The cab ride is hell. Patrick keeps running his hand between your legs and whispering dirty things like: "gonna make you come so hard," and "going to fuck you with my mouth, can I do that?"

When enter get to the hotel room Patrick pushes you against the door and slides a hand into your panties. You moan and pull him closer to you, tangling your fingers in his thick hair. "Fuck, you like that?" He pants against your ear. 

You nod fast and Patrick lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around him. His dick rubs your clit through the fabric of your pants and it's so good, so so good. Patrick strips your of your shirt and leans forward, sucks hard on your collar bone. 

"On the bed please, want you inside me, fuck," you huff, grinding against Patrick. 

He carries you to the bed and lays you down easy, tracing your belly with his mouth. He places soft kisses around your belly button, nipping lightly at the skin. You giggle and look down at him, tracing his jaw with your finger.

"You're gorgeous. I've wanted you for so long." He says, sliding off your pants. You kick them off and drape your legs over Patrick's shoulders, sliding your foot lazily up and down his back. He looks up at you, glaring. 

"I didn't say I was giving you head."

"Oh, but baby, you are. "

"Who said?" He smirks. 

You cock an eyebrow and tighten your legs around him, "I did."

Patrick pulls your panties to the side and licks hastily and you grip his hair tight murmuring "fuck". Patrick hums against you and holds your hips tight and you buck up against his mouth. Patrick pulls back, his lips cherry red and his hair askew. 

"Can I please fuck you now?" You sit up on your elbows and tilt Patrick's head up with your finger. 

"Did you bring condoms?"

Patrick huffs and pats down his pockets and groans, placing his hands over his face. "Fuck. My. Life." 

"Hey, hey it's alright. I'll blow you before you come. They do it in porn all the time." 

"Wha- you watch porn?"

You roll your eyes. "You're not twelve years old Patrick, of course girls watch porn. Now take your pants off, stupid. " 

Patrick strips cautiously, watching you out the corner of his eye. "Can you not stare?" He spits. You giggle and crawl across the bed to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"Tricky, you're gorgeous too. Don't feel so insecure." 

Patrick shrugs and bites his lip. "I just...I'm not...skinny like Pete or something and-"

"Oh my god shut your fucking mouth right now," you slam your mouth against Patrick's, sliding your tongue in and moaning, "don't ever say anything about your weight again you hear me? Now /please/ Patrick." Patrick looks at you with big, round eyes, "just let me ride you. Please. "

Patrick smiles and kisses you, falling backwards and pulling you on top of him. 

Things you find out from having sex with Patrick: he's thick as hell and kind of hurts at first (which ends up with Patrick going "sorry, sorry, sorry, damn fuck you're tight, sorry), he moans like a slut, he has a thing for holding tight onto hips, and he leaves hickies like it's his job. 

Afterwards, when you're lying beside him, he plays with your hair and hums Frank Sinatra. 

"I'm in love with you, ya know. " Patrick finally says. You look up at him. "When I talked to Pete I was so mad I started crying almost. I was so pissed to see someone kissing you and holding you and it wasn't me."

"Then why did you hook up? God Patrick I was so pissed off and she was faking it and she didn't even love you like I do." Patrick folds his arms around you tighter, pressing light kisses to your neck. 

"Because I'm stupid. And thought hook-ups would help me move on from you but it didn't. All I could think of was you. You're fucking infectious, ya gotta stop that. "

You laugh and press yourself into Patrick more. "'M sleepy. Let me go to sleep now and I'll wake you up with, ah," you smirk and Patrick blushes, "a treat maybe? You never know. I'm a kinky girl so-"

"Shut up, oh god. We've got this hotel room for two days until I have to get back on the road. We'll make em' count but for now just sleep okay?"

You laugh and pull the covers up over your shoulders. "Okay."


	8. Daddy Kink (1)

Patrick would never admit that he was kinky. 

He would never admit to being into anything abnormal sex-wise. Until you came along, of course. 

When you were sliding your hands up Patrick's neck and grinding your hips down, whispering: "you want me to call you Daddy, Patrick?" It was like something snapped.

He knew you were kinky too, and he was excited. 

The next day, after some Fall Out Boy photoshoot, he drug you into the bathroom and shoved his hand down your underwear. He was whispering things like "tell Daddy how much you want it," and "you like this, Princess? You want me inside you, pounding into you?"

This is how the transition started. The transition of Patrick being his normal self in the bedroom. 

Daddy. Patrick wanted to be called fucking Daddy. 

A few days later, while your were on your stomach in bed in nothing but underwear and a t-shirt, he walked by and landed a hard slap on your ass. It hurt but god, it was fabulous. The sting lasted for more then ten minutes. After about twenty minutes you met him in the kitchen and he bent you over the kitchen table. With each thrust came a hard ass slap. 

Spanking. Patrick was into spanking. 

Then, after a week or so after the ass slapping incident, Patrick had to leave the house for two weeks. Cobra was back in the studio and he had to be there to hear the rough starts of the song. It was only two weeks, but Patrick promised he'd call and that he would be having Pete to come check on you. 

That night, he called you. 

"Fuck," he had hissed, "it's only been a day and I'm missing you."

You chuckled, sipped your coffee, flipped off the TV. "Are you seriously jerking off right now? What are you, fifteen years old?"

"Shut the fuck up," he growled and yeah, it got to you. Heat swelled between your legs and you looked at the front door. It was locked, with the chain and all. You shoved your hand down the front of your sweatpants and rubbed. 

"Alright then," you groaned, "if phone sex is what we're doing then show me what ya got." You heard Patrick gasp and you bit your lip. 

This is how you found out Patrick is good at talking absolutely filthy. See, when you and Patrick first had sex, he barely made a sound. A sigh here, a grunt there and that was all. In his defense, you weren't comfortable enough to be your normal loud self either. Yet, once you let it spill that you're kinky as hell, Patrick's been a trip in the bedroom.

"God, want to fuck your tight pussy so hard you cry," he grunted, "want to feel clench around my cock when you come." There was a sound of slick skin-on-skin. "Want to fuck your throat too, fuck yeah, want to feel you moan around my dick."

And you thought Patrick sounded hot when he sang. 

So, yeah, phone sex got way better. Before, Patrick would hang up quickly, like he was embarrassed. No conversation, no pillow talk. Nothing. 

"You've got a cute ass. I like it. You should wear those leggings more often." Patrick had been slightly purring into the phone, obviously post orgasm. 

"I always catch you staring. You're not slick."

"Mmm, speaking of slick, we should put baby oil on you."

"Patrick, come on now. I'm so pale, I'd look like a drenched corpse."

Patrick chuckled, "speaking of corpse,"

"Oh god, don't you dare, Patrick Stump."

Patrick let out a cackle, and the sound of sheets moving filled the phone. "Wish you were here though. We could cuddle and stuff, ya know. I like feeling your skin. It's warm and pale and I can always see the hickeys I leave. That's cute."

You actually fucking giggled. "Patrick, aw god, geez." You squirmed and blushed into your pillow. 

"Remember, back during the Cork Tree tour when you woke me up with a blowjob? The first one you'd ever given me and I freaked out?"

You blushed. "Yeah, why?"

"That night I had a dream...about uh...you."

You sat up straighter in the recliner. "No shit."

"Yeah," Patrick gulped loudly, "it was uh you. And me. Duh. And for some reason we were on the tour bus floor. I don't know why. And you, shit babe, you had on this pretty lacy lingerie and it was pink and, goddamn."

You began to blush, feeling so warm and hot all of a sudden. "Yeah? And?" 

"And you had this-this, uh," there was a pause, "this pretty pink matching collar. With a tag and everything. And you were on your knees and you had these stockings on and you were begging for me to fuck your mouth and you were calling me daddy, and shit fuck, Princess." He was jerking off again, "you were fingering your self and moaning around me and then you pulled off and I fucked you raw and I didn't want to tell you all this because fuck, that's weird right? Wanting you in a collar? That's weird right?"

You wanted that more than anything. So, to convince him, you went into Princess mode. 

"Oh god, Daddy," you ran your fingers over your clit and gasped, "I want that, yeah. Want you fucking me hard in a collar, Daddy."

"Fuck, baby, you serious? You'll let me?"

"'Course I will, fuck that's hot."

 

So now, here you are, sitting on your knees on Patrick's large California king bed in frilly pink lingerie, a matching collar, and knee socks with bows. Your hair is curled and your mouth is smothered with lip gloss to show off your pout. You're waiting for Patrick to get home and you keep rubbing yourself little by little. You're so fucking ready for this. It's only what you've wanted Patrick to do since, hell, Take This To Your Grave came out. 

You hear the front door slam and you huff, get situated on the bed. 

You hear, "hey baby! I'm home!" And shoes being toed off down the hallway. 

"Hey, girly I'm-" the door swings wide and Patrick drops his suitcase with a loud clash. You giggle a little and stick your chest out slightly. 

"You didn't-" he stammers, "you didn't say when I got home you'd be-"

"Daddy please? I got all ready for you, don't you like it?" You pout. Patrick visibly deflates. 

"Of course I love it baby, I do- I just, this is so unexpected and you look so goddamn precious in that. Where did you get it?" Patrick changes, ever so slightly. He licks his lips and he stands a little taller. 

You grin. "I bought it offline, Daddy! I bought a this one, a black one, and a white one!"

Patrick blushes. "You bought three?"

"And some handcuffs! Just in case I get in bad bad trouble, Daddy." You pout again and Patrick runs a hand through his hair.

"Well, okay, fuck Princess. Stand up for me, Daddy wants to see you."

You stand up slowly and he walks towards you. He stands so close without touching you. He looks you up and down, licking his lips. He looks predatory and you fucking like it. You want him to own you. 

"Turn around." Patrick's voice is gruff and fuck, fuck, it's hot. You turn around and you feel a hand run up your ass and sit on your hip. "You did your hair for daddy?"

"Mmhmm," you smile again, closing your eyes, "I wanted to look really pretty for you for when you came home!" You turn around to face him, placing your hands behind your back. "Do I like pretty, Daddy? I even wore the collar for you."

Patrick's hands run up your curves and he runs his fingers over the half leather, half lacy collar. He lets out a shuddery breath. "I love it, Princess. You look very, very pretty. You did very good." 

"Look," you lick your lips and point at the metal circle hanging from the collar, "it's even got a hook for a leash!" 

"Mmm, you're too well behaved for a leash, sweet heart. You're a good girl." The calloused hand slides back to your ass. 

You breathe heavy. "Do you think I'm cute, daddy?"

"You're very cute, baby."

You slide your hands down Patrick's chest, leaning in and brushing your glossy lips against his cheek. "Would you fuck me like this, Daddy?"

"Fuck, Princess, if you'd let me I-" you kiss Patrick, cutting him off. His lips taste like Starbucks and mint and you groan. Patrick slides his other hand to your ass and pinches and you giggle into his mouth. 

"Daddy, can I be a good girl and take care of you tonight? Since you're so tired from your flight? I'll do good if you let me!" 

Patrick nods, traces your face with his thumb. "You look gorgeous. Really." Normal Patrick voice. This makes you blush. 

"Thanks Patrick." And you kiss him again, pushing him back onto the bed. He lays back but you shake your head. 

"Uh uh, Daddy. Sitting at the front." Patrick tilts his head but sits up and scoots to the edge. You kneel in front of him and start undoing his belt and jerking his jeans down. You mouth him through his boxers and he lets out a long sigh. He gathers your curled hair in his fist and strokes your cheek with the other hand. 

"Good girl, oh god, baby," Patrick squirms a little and you reach up and lick the bottom of his belly. He snickers and pulls his boxers down. 

"Fuck, Sir, don't know if I can take it all," you huff. You can, you have before. You've blown Patrick more times than you can count. But this side of you, hasn't. 

"You can Princess, you're my good girl, you can." You lick from the base and up, sucking him into your mouth. Patrick lets out a long groan, both of his hands flying to your hair. You lick and suck him, grunting and groaning. You let your hand reach down and rub your clit while you do so and Patrick tugs your hair hard, pulling you off him. 

"Sweetie..." He licks his lips and stokes himself lazily with one hand. You try to watch him, mouth open and needy, but he jerks you again. "We're you touching yourself?"

"I, uh-" you blush and bite your lip, "yes Daddy, I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fucking cut it. I didn't say you could touch yourself."

"Have I been bad, Daddy?"

Patrick pulls you up and over onto his lap and you quiver slightly. Your pussy is throbbing and wet and Patrick doing this is only going to make it worse. 

"Ten swats," Patrick huffs, "count them."

The first slap burns and makes you groan. "One,"

The second one is not as bad and by the time ten rolls around, you're dripping. You have a few tears brimming your eyes and Patrick pulls you to him in a hug. 

"Babe...what's your safe word?" He whispers. You give him a long peck on the cheek. 

"Mango," you chuckle. Patrick giggles against your neck. 

"You did good, honey. Real good." Patrick rubs your ass tenderly. It still burns and you sniffle into Patrick's neck. "Do you want a treat?" Patrick sucks your neck, and you realize, he's still hard under you. 

"Mmm, please Daddy? I'm sorry I was bad."

"It's okay, my pretty girl, you did so good. Your mouth felt so good on Daddy's cock, it's okay." 

You reach into the top of your push up bra and grab the stashed condom. "Mmm," Patrick groans, reaching up and palming your boobs, "such pretty tits. So hot and thick," you huff and rip the condom open with your teeth. Patrick slides his hands down and pulls down the lacy underwear. 

"Here, Daddy," you slide the condom down on to him, and Patrick gasps at your touch. You slide down onto Patrick and god, he's thick and perfect. He always is. You start to move when Patrick grips your hips. 

"Hey, no...let me, baby you're tired." Patrick kisses you, sweet and soft, "you did good for Daddy tonight."

When you come, Patrick kisses you and keeps thrusting, kissing you hard. 

Afterwards, you peel off the socks and the rest of the lingerie, and curl into Patrick. You leave the collar on. 

"You looked so pretty tonight. You did good too. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"You didn't, Trick. I mean, you did, but I liked it." 

Patrick runs his nose along your neck. "You've still got the collar on."

"I'm yours. Always."

Patrick places light kisses around the collar. "I'm in fucking love with you. You know that right? Always have been."

"Always. I love you." You murmur, curling into Patrick more. 

You both fall asleep, curled around each other.


	9. Daddy Kink 2 ft. A Lonely Pete Wentz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is a Patrick/reader/Pete threesome. It's a dream of mine, let me live it.

"Okay, I'm fucking serious," Pete drops down on the couch next to you and you glance from your phone to him. Pete came over you and Patrick's place for lunch (he's been quite down lately since Ashlee left and Patrick said he was too afraid to leave him alone, even if Fall Out Boy was on hiatus) and has decided to stay the night. 

"What're you fucking serious about, Peter?" You ask, locking your phone and turning to him. Pete shoots a glance towards the staircase, making sure Patrick wasn't coming down from taking a shower yet. 

"What kind of kinky shit have you two been up to?" Pete half-whispers and you choke a little, laughing.

"What? What're you talking about?" You blush hard. Pete notices. 

"Come on, I know whenever Patrick used to sneak away to talk to you on the phone that he wasn't just talking."

"So? Who cares? You've had plenty of phone sex. That's normal for distant couples." You purse your lips and cross your arms and Pete shakes his head. 

"Then why did I hear you call him daddy when he was kissing you outside the bar a week ago?"

This time when you choke, you don't laugh. 

"I- Pete, it's just- we just,"

Pete nibbles his bottom lip and his cheeks turn slightly pink. He brings his sweatpant clad legs up to his chest and bites at his thumb. "Do you think, uh-" Pete rubs the back of his neck (which is very red, even for Pete's almost brown skin) and huffs a little. "Do you, like, think Trick would-"

You put out your bottom lip in a pout and scoot close to Pete, pulling his head into your arms and laying him down on your lap. You giggle as Pete gapes at you. "Is poor little Petey a bit lonely?" You lean down and press a small kiss to his cheek and he shivers. "Did you want to join your best friends in bed for fun, baby doll?"

Pete nods a little, looking smaller than he really is. 

Patrick trots down the stairs, his hair still wet and boxers and a white T shirt sticking to him. "Well hello," he smiles fondly, "my two babies getting snuggly?" He walks over and plops down next to you, running a hand over Pete's firm belly. "Is Peter sad, sweetie?" He mumbles into your ear and you nod. 

"Little Peter is very sad and needs some cheering up." Pete sits up and slides so he's leaning against the arm of the couch. 

Patrick stands up and offers his hands to the both of you. You take Patrick's hand and stand beside him. Pete looks up at the two of you cautiously. 

"T-this isn't going to change anything right? Like, you're not going to find me gross tomorrow or something?" Pete stammers out. 

Patrick rolls his eyes, "Pete I find you gross now." Pete smiles a little and takes Patrick's hand slowly. "Now come on. Me and (Y/N) will take care of you good, promise. Right babe?" You nod and Patrick pulls the two of you upstairs and into the bedroom. You're tingling with excitement. 

When the bedroom door shuts you press yourself up against Pete and tangle your fingers in his thick straightened hair. Pete's breathing is heavy and you lick your lips. "Come on, Pete baby, kiss me." You pout a little and Pete slides a hand to your ass. 

"Go on Pete," you hear Patrick's voice, low and deep from beside you, "you can kiss her, it's okay."

Pete swallows and presses his mouth against yours hard. His mouth is thick and a little slimy but it's good. He slides his tongue into your mouth slowly and you allow him, tangling your tongue with his. He grunts and you rut up against the bulge in his tight black jeans. The friction makes you whimper and Pete growls a little into your mouth. 

"Princess, suck his cock. Do it." You pull your mouth off of Pete and turn to look at Patrick. His eyes are dark and his hair is sticking up a bit wildly and he's palming himself through his boxers. "Do it like you do for Daddy," he repeats, his tongue swiping over his pink lips. 

You nod and begin to unbuckle Pete's belt, sliding to your knees. You see Patrick walk up to Pete and press a swift kiss to his neck. 

"Daddy?" Pete chuffs, "really Patrick?" You pull Pete's belt out of the belt loops and toss it to the floor. 

"Watch your mouth, Wentz," Patrick is sliding his tongue up Pete's neck, "talking like that can get you fucking spanked."

You hear Pete let out a long sigh and "Christ" as you finally get his tight jeans down. 

"How am I supposed to suck you off when your jeans are tighter than mine?" You growl, palming Pete through his boxers. Pete hisses and grips your hair tight, shoving his own boxers down. 

"Quit fucking blabbering and put my cock down your throat, thanks." Pete is a squirming bitch, and a pushy one at that. You breathe heavily on him and he grunts. You place your hands on his tan thighs and slide your tongue teasingly over the tip. Pete hisses out "fuck" and his head drops back a little. 

"Don't tease him Princess, that's not what good girls do." Patrick is chuckling a little, knowing you're only doing so because Pete was impatient. 

"Bad little boys who talk mean to their Princesses don't get to fuck face, do they daddy?" You dig your nails into Pete's thighs and Patrick stands up and slides over a leather side-chair to him so he can sit down. Patrick chuckles and twirls Pete's hair around his finger. 

"She's got a point, baby boy." Patrick sits back down on the edge of the bed, "you're not daddy, so you gotta be nice to her." 

Pete huffs hard and pulls you up to his face and begins sucking your neck. "Please," he groans, "please suck my cock please? You're so pretty, you'll look gorgeous doing it with that pretty pink mouth."

You lick your lips and giggle. "Okay, Peter. Since you're being so nice." You slide down and push your mouth onto him, feeling him hit the back of your throat and pulling back. A small string of spit dangles from your mouth and you groan as Pete swipes it away. You go back down on him and bob your head, taking him faster. 

"Fuck, Princess, fuck," he grunts, trying to keep his hips planted. You pull back and kiss the inside of his thigh. You hear slick skin-on-skin and you twist to see Patrick fucking his hand, his mouth open slightly, watching you. You gulp. 

"D-daddy," you groan, staring at him. Patrick is pretty when he jerks off. "Please please?" Patrick nods and you look up at Pete and smile. You stand up and peel off your shirt, then slip out of your pants. 

"Fuck," you hear Pete say. 

"Right, though?" Patrick smiles. You blush a little and Patrick says, "go sit on Pete." You see now that Pete has moved to the top of the bed. You crawl up to him and slide on his lap, straddling him and kissing at his neck. 

"Fuck Patrick, she's-"

"Yeah she is," Patrick scoots up behind you and swats your ass, "look at that pretty fucking ass. That's my favorite."

"No shit," Pete huffs and you slide your hands up his shirt and twist at his nipple, "she lets you do that?"

Patrick smacks your ass again and you moan out, "please Daddy, ah." Pete digs his thumb into your hip. 

"Of course she does. She likes it when I fuck her tight ass, don't you baby?" You lean up and lean your forehead on Pete's, nodding slightly. Patrick spits on his hand, rubs it between his fingers and smacks. The spit makes it sting like hell and you yelp. "Tell Pete how much you fucking like it."

"Yeah, yeah, fuck," Pete slides his hand down and fingers your clit, "I like it when daddy fucks my ass, I do."

Pete's kisses you smooth and sweet and says, "Jesus, Patrick, she's soaking wet." 

Patrick chuckles and rubs your ass where he hit it and slides your panties down around your shins. You push your ass up slightly, without thinking and he slides his fingers into your slow, stretching you. "Yeah, fuck, you are. God, have you thought about this Princess? Me and Pete double fucking you like the slut you are?"

"Yeah," you moan/confess, "whenever, ah, whenever Pete would sleep with us in the hotel sometimes i'd think about you two fucking me. God, ah, I used to finger myself thinking about it."

"Dirty, dirty," Patrick mumbles and you feel Pete's dick twitch against your chest and you look up at him. He nods a little, getting it, and unstraps your bra. You slide it off, still whimpering from Patrick's fingers sliding in and out of you. 

"God, pretty pretty, so pretty," Pete mumbles, tracing your jaw with his thumb. You smile at him a little and place small kisses around his belly button. 

"Princess, do you want daddy to fuck you now? You've been a really good girl so far, daddy is really proud of you." You turn to see Patrick naked, now, and you feel his hardness bump you and you grunt a little. You grin at him, eyes twinkling. 

"I want to suck your cock, daddy. I want Pete to fuck me." And Patrick stops, grips your hips hard. 

"Y-you want Pete? You want Pete to..?" And you feel Pete's dick twitch again and you nod. You want Pete inside you so bad. You remember seeing those fucking pictures Pete took on his shitty phone and hoping one day Patrick would let that tan thickness slide inside of you. 

"Please daddy, please?" You slide back from Pete and turn around to face Patrick. Pete's calloused hand slides across your ass cheek and it makes you shiver slightly. Patrick kisses you soft, the first time tonight he's done so. You let his thumb slide over your nipple and you moan into his mouth. "Come on, daddy," you whisper, your fingers ghosting over his leaking cock, "I'll let you punish me later for being a whore. Promise."

"Don't want to punish you," Patrick says and Pete slides his fingers into you slightly, and you bite your lip, "it's pretty, watching Pete pound into you. I'm just, I-"

"Pete could fuck me so good that I come three times in a row and make a mess, but goddammit Patrick, you're still my fucking daddy." And that's when Patrick grins and grips your hair shoving your mouth into him. He throbs in your mouth and you choke a little but it's okay, Patrick likes it messy. 

"Do it Pete," Patrick groans, "fuck her hard, come on, ah-" he cuts off with a long moan and that's when your feel rough hands on your hips. Pete pushes into you easy, tender, and rubs your clit while leaving kisses up your spine. It makes you tingle. 

You pull back and say, "dammit, Pete, you're sweet and all but I want it hard, thanks." Patrick chuckles and pets your hair and you slide your mouth around Patrick's dick again. 

"Goddamn, you're such a fucking-" Pete slams into you hard and you moan around Patrick.

"That's right, shit," Patrick's voice is nearly hoarse, "pound into her ass, fuck, spank her for being so goddamn mouthy."

Pete fucks you fast, slapping your ass hard and making you choke on Patrick. 

Patrick grunts and says, "going to come," and pushes you up so your back is pressed against Pete's chest. He's still thrusting hard into you, grunting out profanities and rubbing your clit with his palm. "Fucking sick whore, likes being fucked by two men at once. My little cock slut Princess," Patrick jerks himself fast and breathes out like he's been kicked when he comes. 

His come drips down your chest and runs down Pete's fingers where he's holding you. Patrick catches it with his fingers and pushes them into your mouth. Your moan around his hand and lick it clean. 

"God, fuck," Patrick growls and grabs your face in his large hand. He slaps your face and says, "fucking open your mouth." You open wide for him and he spits in your mouth. 

You never thought you could ever be turned on by such a disgusting thing. 

Pete whimpers, "I-I'm so close baby, i-" and you slide off of him and turn around and taking him into your mouth. 

Patrick kisses up your back as your leaned over and says, "do it Pete, come in her mouth," and he does, warm saltiness pooling into your mouth. You swallow. Good girl. 

"Please daddy," you groan, "let me come now, please please," Patrick smiles at you and turns you on your back, resting against Pete. He places kisses up your breasts and he slides his half-hard dick into you. Pete rubs your clit fast from behind and Patrick thrusts into you and you pant hard, squirming. 

"Pretty girl, so pretty," Patrick groans, "pretty fucking pussy, love fucking you, love it." Your body convulses and you feel the heat rush quickly to your pelvis. You groan out, "fuck, fuck, fuck, goddammit, yes." Patrick quickly pulls out and jerks off and come onto the sheet with a growl. 

 

You sit up, panting and pulling your legs together and up to your chest. Pete wipes his sweat beaded forehead and leans behind you, placing sweet kisses on the nape of you neck. Patrick puts you face in his hands and you kisses you sweet on the mouth. 

"You're perfect. You're absolutely perfect. You're not a slut, you're not." Pete mumbles into your skin and you giggle, leaning back to smooch him on the mouth. 

"'Course she isn't," Patrick rubs loving circles into your belly, "she's my pretty Princess and I love her." You blush and curl further into Pete's arms. "I love you too Pete, don't forget that." Patrick says, leaning up to run a hand throat black, sweaty hair. 

Pete blushes and digs his nose into your neck. 

"We didn't get to play together much this time, Peter," Patrick laughs, "but we will. Next time."

"Next time?" Pete blurts out. You giggle and kiss up his jaw. 

"Definitely next time."


	10. Window Show

The Stumphs are good neighbors. They always mow their lawn, and always pick up their mail. If somehow their newspaper gets tossed onto your lawn, they always go and pick it up. They’re fine neighbors. Their son, though, is quite different.

You sling your backpack over your shoulder and trot out the door, heading to your car. “Hey, hey wait up, hey!” you hear a voice shout from behind you. Patrick Stumph, the youngest son in the family (who is your age, though) comes barreling out of his house with two books and a drink cup in his hand. He reaches you, huffing and sitting his cup on top of your car to straighten out his black hoodie and pull up his slightly baggy jeans. “Can I ride with you? I meant to ask yesterday, but you were out so…” he grabs his cup off of the top and takes a sip.

“Sure, always.” You smile. Patrick’s been a good friend to you since you’ve known him. Always helps out with your outside chores and brings you a drink when you’re out tanning. His bedroom window is also exactly across from yours, meaning sometimes he’ll play you a song on his guitar that he’s been writing for some band he’s in. Fall Out...something or other. You don’t really know.

He gives you a big grin and you walk around to the driver’s side, opening to door and flopping down into your seat. Patrick slides into the passenger side, setting his drink in the cup holder and letting his books rest on his lap.

You turn on your CD player and a Blink-182 song slowly starts up. You seemed to have left “Enema of the State” in the system. “Holy shit, yes.” Patrick mumbles, leaning forward to turn the knob on the radio. The ride is quiet except for the punk music playing through the speakers and Patrick drumming away on his books.

When you pull into a parking spot at the school, Patrick pushes himself out of the car, downing his drink and tossing it in the trashcan that’s on the sidewalk. “Thanks for the ride, (Y/N)!” he yells to you, walking backwards, “Can I get a ride home too? Please?”

You laugh and give him a thumbs up.

School is the same as everyday, class after class. You see Patrick at lunch with his friend Joe, who often is over Patrick’s house. Sometimes that Pete guy is over there too, and you only know that because I can hear him shrieking and laughing obnoxiously from your room. You wonder if Patrick ever talks about you. You hope he does.

The drive home is silent, even the radio is off. Patrick is slumped against the car’s window, eyes shut. He’s always sleepy after school, you’ve noticed and you wonder how late he goes to sleep. You go over a small speedbump and Patrick mumbles something in his sleep. You pull into your driveway, putting the car in park and switching off the engine. Patrick grunts a little in his sleep again, shifting slightly. You giggle and lay a hand on his knee, looking at him. His mouth is slightly open and his breathing is easy. He’s cute. He’s really fucking cute. Oh no.

You bite your lip and Patrick’s hand reaches down and grabs yours. “What’re you doing?” he asks, quickly sitting up, slightly wide-eyed.

“I-I was just,” you stammer, not really knowing how to explain staring at your neighbor and thinking he’s cute.

“Yeah, okay, nevermind. I-er-I gotta go.” Patrick pulls his books onto his lap and hops out of the car. You step out and see him shut his front door. You sigh, pulling your bag onto your back and walking upstairs. You throw my bag onto the chair that sits by my door and begin pulling your pants off. You toss them to the side, not really caring about tossing them into the wash, and pull some shorts out of your dresser drawer. You get on your laptop, checking your grades online when you get a text.

**message from: Tricky Stump :P**

You slide your finger on the screen and unlock your phone to read the message.

**hey :/ srry i left so quick.**

_its okay_ , you text back, _i was just wondering y u dashed off so quick!_

**i just rlly wanted to finish my nap. thats all. come to the window yea!**

You stand up and walk over to your window, pushing the drapes back. Patrick is standing there in a pair of Ninja Turtle pajama pants and a faded Green Day shirt. He gives a shy smile and looks down at his phone, typing.

**u looked nice today. just wanted to tell u :)**

_now ur just trying to suck up ;D xx_

**mayb!! lol! i just felt rlly bad for leavin u all confused. y were u touchin me??**

You look up at Patrick and smirk and he blushes slightly, rubbing his neck.

_U look cute when u sleep, silly! i was just lookin at u is all. :)_

**creep ;p**

_me the creep? i kno u watch me through ur window. grosssss_

Patrick laughs and shakes his head and you cock an eyebrow.

**oh please. dont be so full of urself. i only watch u when u undress. HAHAHA**

You fake gasp and look up and Patrick is laughing. You bite your lip and think of something.

_you like to watch me when i undress, stumpy? ;)_

You see Patrick flush and he adjusts the waistband of his pants. He looks up at you, and his eyebrows are furrowed. You take a deep breath and set your phone on the windowsill and pull your shirt up over your head. You drop it to the floor and see Patrick mouth “holy shit.” You bite your lip and smirk again and Patrick quickly types again.

**what the fuck are we doing this is this really wat were doing becuz holy shit do i want to do it**

You laugh a little.

_You think i was staring at you platonically? come on, trick, stripppppp ;)_

Patrick gulps and shakes his head, his face flushed. You can see him hard through his pants. You lick your lips and pout, tilting your head and mouthing “please.” Patrick looks to his left, obviously checking to make sure nobody was going to come through his door. He hooks his fingers underneath his shirt and pulls it off. He’s so pale and pretty. His nipples are pink, almost the same color as his thick lips. His tummy has a slight pooch, but it’s cute and you feel the need to press sloppy kisses to it. You’re afraid if you’re not careful, you’ll start drooling. He squirms slightly, not really knowing where to put his hands. You type out another message.

_ur soooooooooooooooo hot wtf_

Patrick blushes harder and you realizes that it spreads down his entire torso. So fucking hot.

**speak for urself. youve got me so fuckin hard ha.**

Now you’re blushing, biting your thumbnail and smiling. Patrick leans his forearm against the glass and starts palming himself through his pants, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. You huff, feeling heat spread through your body and down to your crotch. Goddammit. You push your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and push them down, letting them fall to your feet. You look up and Patrick is still palming himself.

 _eye for an eye_ , you text, _pants off._

Patrick sees the message on his phone and quickly pulls his pants off. You can see the prominent bulge through his boxers, and it you moan a little, letting your hands drift down to your clothed center. Patrick watches you carefully, attaching his palm back to his underwear-clad dick.

You rub yourself through your panties and groan, then pick up your phone again.

_can i come over? :)_

**fuck, is that even a question?**

You pull your shorts and t-shirt back on and tiptoe down the stairs. You dash out the back door, bare foot no less, and walk through Patrick’s unlocked back door. You walk up to his room and go to push the door open, but he swings it wide and pulls you inside. He shuts the door behind you and shoves you against it, attaching his mouth to yours roughly.

“Fuck,” he murmurs against your lips, “thought about this since I was fuckin’ thirteen.”

“No shit?” you rasp, pulling your shirt up and tossing it, feeling Patrick’s soft skin on yours.

“God, yes. Jerked to you all the time. On the bed.” he grips your hips and pushes you backward, making you easily fall backwards onto his bed. He hooks his fingers onto the hem of your shorts and yanks them off. You spread your legs for him, propping up slightly to look down at him. He licks his lips, making them wet and shiny, and crawls up your body. He places soft kisses on your collar bone and rubs circles into your hips with his thumbs.

You lean up and reach behind to unhook your bra. You pull it off your arms and let it slide off the side of the bed. “Jesus christ,” Patrick murmurs, leaning down and pulling your nipple into his mouth. You groan, letting your hands run through his soft hair. Patrick leans back and slides your panties down, throwing them. They land on his dresser and you chuckle slightly. Patrick slides out of his boxers and your mouth waters at the sight of his cock.

“Hey, hey, stop looking.” he says, tilting your chin up with his forefinger. You pout.

“I like to look.”

“I’ve figured that much out.” he smirks and leans over to open his side drawer. He pulls out a condom and you quirk an eyebrow.

“Really? Condoms beside your bed?” you chuckle, letting your finger drift over Patrick’s arm.

“Really? You’re about to get fucked and you’re complaining?”

You glare at him playfully and he opens the package, sliding the latex onto himself.

“Alright, Tricky, don’t be pussy about it you gotta-” Patrick interrupts you by grabbing your arm and flipping you onto your stomach. He grabs the backs of your legs and pushes them, so you’re on your knees.

“Ass up, now.” he hisses, giving you a swift slap on your ass. You push yourself farther up on your forearms for him, wiggling a little teasingly. “Hey now,” he chuffs, giving your hip a tight squeeze. You laugh and he does, too. This is easy. This thing you two are doing, is easy. It’s a nice change.

Patrick slides in and he’s average size, but so thick. It takes a moment to adjust to the stretch and Patrick is breathing heavy as he pauses to let you. “Fuckin’ tight, oh god.” he’s huffing hard, and the burn finally ceases.

“Move, Patrick fuck, please.” you groan and Patrick complies, beginning to thrust.

“Holy shit,” Patrick says, leaning over you and biting at your shoulder, “goddamn, oh god.” his lips move against your sweaty skin as he moans. He’s going faster now, hitting that sweet spot inside of you that has you shaking and moaning. His long fingers push between your legs, rubbing at your clit as he pounds into you. You can feel the throbbing in your entire body and electricity shoots between your legs. You can feel the tight heat in your stomach and you grunt.

“Trick, Trick- I’m-”

“Please,” he groans, “cum for me, please.”

A wave of pleasure shoots through you and Patrick grips the back of your hair and pushes your face into the pillow to muffle your cries. Patrick’s hips stutter as you come down from your high and he let’s out a small “oh fuck yeah.” He pulls out with a sigh and you wince a little, turning onto your back and pulling your legs up to your chest and crossing them at your feet.

“No need to be shy now,” Patrick chuckles, pulling off the condom and tying it. He stands up and walks to the bathroom. You hear a small splash of water and the toilet flush.

“You’re so classy! Flushing your children like that.” you say, standing up and picking your t-shirt up off the floor, pulling it on. You walk over to the dresses to pick up your tossed panties, but Patrick beats you to them, boxers already on.

“Nuh uh,” he says, grabbing your underwear and sliding his own drawer open to drop them in. You cross your arms and cock and eyebrow at him. “I need something to remember you by.”

“So you’re keeping my panties?”

“Mmm, until you come over again to look for them.”  
“How am I gonna tell your mom that I’m coming over to pick up my pink panties from her poor little son?”

Patrick shrugs, pulling you to him by the hem of your shirt. “I don’t know. Figure it out.” he gives you a tender kiss on the lips and you smile into it. Then he swats your ass. You pull back and glare.

“Now get those shorts on and get home. The faster you leave, the faster you can come back for seconds.”

You roll your eyes. “This isn’t dinner, you can’t have seconds.”

Patrick smirks. “It’s not dinner, but I’m gonna be eatin’ soon.”


	11. Faith Is To Be Awake (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Stump is the new Bible studies teacher at St. Paul Catholic School in Illinois.

“So they just, what, fired him?” I say as I adjust my tie, pulling it tighter around my neck. Carrie looks at me out of the corner of her eye as she wipes her access lipgloss off onto a scrap piece of toilet paper. I flatten out my skirt, pulling it down so it falls just above my kneecaps. 

“Yep.” she says tossing the used napkin, then checking her eye make-up in the bathroom’s mirror, “You can’t be a teacher here and fuck around with other teachers. That’s like, against code or something.” 

I lean back against the sink, tilting my head. “That’s dumb as shit. They’re grown adults!” Carrie shrugs and fixes the cuffs of her dress shirt. 

“Plus it was Mr. McGregor, who was like fifty years old. Who wants to fuck a fifty year old?”

“Well,” I chuckle, “apparently Ms. Shumara does. She was sixty, so technically, McGregor was her sugar baby.” 

Carrie scrunches up her nose and I laugh, grabbing my stomach. “Disgusting, that’s disgusting.” she groans, rubbing her face with her palm. We laugh and interlock our arms as we walk out of the restroom. When we emerge, Sister Tabitha is glaring at us, her hands on her hips and her glasses on the bridge of her bony nose. 

“You ladies have been in there for far too long. Get to class or it’s detention for a week. I mean it! Off with you!” she waves her hands at us, shooing us like dogs. We release each other and quickly dash to Bible Studies, Carrie flipping up the back of her skirt and letting out a loud cackle.

\--

So, the new teacher is gorgeous. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. I notice it as soon as I walk in and see him sitting at his desk with his head in his palm as he scrolls through his phone. He’s got shiny brunette hair, that’s flat, as if he was wearing a hat at some point in the day. He’s got pale skin, but it looks so soft and his lips- god his lips. They’re plump, pink, and suckable. I bite my lip. How am I going to pay attention in this class.

He looks up at Carrie and I, and smiles, sitting his phone down. I can’t breathe. 

“Are we early or something, sir?” Carrie asks, looking around at the empty classroom. I’m glad she can speak, because I can’t. Hot Teacher stands and straightens out his button-up. 

“Uh, yeah, about five minutes is all. I’m Mr. Stump, by the way.” he walks over to us, his hand out. Carrie shakes his hand and says: “Carrie Marshall, nice to meet you!” He turns to me and grins, his hand stuck out. I look down at his hand, bite my lip again and take it. Breathe. In and Out. 

“I, uh, I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you, sir.” I say, a blush creeping up my cheeks. Mr. Stump stops shaking his hand up and down but continues to grip mine.

“No need to be embarrassed, I’m not scary or anything,” he holds up my hand and pats it, reassuringly. 

I nod, still red. “Yeah, no, you don’t look scary. You look good. I mean, uh, you look nice. You look really nice.” I smile, but it falters. I’m a fucking idiot. I’m a stupid fucking idiot.

“Thank you!” he chuckles, finally releasing my hand as he hears students coming down the hallway. I walk over and sit down in the desk next to Carrie. She’s sitting facing me, her legs crossed, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips.

“What?” I chuff. She raises both eyebrows.

“Listen,” her smirk gets wider, “the only thing worse than a teacher fucking a teacher around here, is a teacher fucking a student.” I gasp and turn to make sure Mr. Stump hadn’t heard her vulgar words. Luckily, he was standing at the door, greeting everyone. 

“Carrie, shut up.” I hiss in a whisper, blushing, “I would never.”

She slaps the desk, lets out a loud sarcastic laugh. “Are you kidding me? You were practically drooling talking to him!” 

“Was not!” I spit back. 

“Was too! You were practically begging for his dick in your-”

“Okay class! Everyone quiet down please!” Mr. Stump finally trots up to the front of the class, and I shoot a final glare to Carrie. She makes the jacking off motion and I turn away from her, annoyed. “Hello everyone, I’m Mr. Stump and I’m going to be your new Bible Studies teacher. I can already feel you’re going to be a very good class.” I don’t think I imagined him looking at me when he said this, but knowing me, I probably did. “I’m going to give you your first assignment, don’t worry, it’s super easy. You can work on it while I call roll and we’ll turn them in at the end of class okay? Super.” he claps his hands together and walks up to the chalkboard. While he’s writing, I stare at him. He’s short, and skinny but his back is broad. My eyes trail down him, eventually landing on his ass. It’s so cute and round, and the dress pants he is wearing shows it off nicely. I feel a pinch on my arm and jump. I turn to Carrie, automatically knowing it’s her. 

“You’re staring.” she mouths. I roll my eyes and flip her off. 

When Mr. Stump goes and sits down, his assignment is written on the board.

Get out your Bibles and pick out your favorite verses. Write them, and tell why you like them or why it connects you personally or inspires you. 

I hear some people huff and groan as they pull out their Bibles. I pull mine out and sit it on my desk, as well as a sheet of paper. 

After only writing for 20 minutes, my pencil lead snaps. Carrie giggles when she hears it and I sigh, rubbing my head. I raise my hand and Mr. Stump looks up at me, smiling.

“Yes?” 

“May I sharpen my pencil, sir?” 

Mr. Stump nods his head and lets his gaze linger a bit. I stand up and walk past his desk to the pencil sharpener, feeling awkward and embarrassed. I quickly sharpen the lead and shuffle back to my seat to finish my work. 

 

I finish writing my verses quick. Writing them is easy, considering almost every teacher does this on their first day. I don’t know if Mr. Stump knows that. He probably thinks this is a clever or fun assignment. I end up crossing my legs and twisting my pencil in my hand, trying to think about where Carrie and I are going to eat after school. I jump slightly when I hear Mr. Stump’s chair scoot.

“Miss?” he looks at me, tilts his head, “are you finished?” 

I nod. “Yes, sir.” I say, trying not to get flustered. Just the way he looks gets me squirming in my seat.

“How many verses did you write?”

“Thirty-five, sir. I figured that was enough.” 

Mr. Stump mouths “thirty-five” to himself, as though that was a lot to write. Does he realize I've written double-spaced ten page essays before? “That’s good,” he says, “real good.”

I smile, blushing slightly. “Thank you, sir.” Mr. Stump goes back to grading papers and Carrie is silently snickering. I look at her and glare.

Eventually, the bell rings and we all turn in our papers. I walk out fast, not giving Mr. Stump a chance to catch me in a conversation. The entire walk to my house, Carrie laughs at me. 

____

That night I kept having dreams about calloused hands traveling up my body and a thick heat radiating down below the waistband of my pants. I wake up sweating when I hear my alarm goes off at 6:05, but I honestly try not to think about it. 

____

I sit down at my desk in Mr. Stump’s class, slightly jittery due to my dreams last night. Carrie isn't here today. She texted me saying she was going to the orthodontist and probably wasn't coming in late, that McDonalds was calling her name. “But have fun fingering urself in Stump’s class!! ;)” was the last message she sent to me. I replied with an angry face. 

I sit my lead pencil on my desk (I brought it to avoid the awkwardness of getting up and walking in front of Mr. Stump) as well as my notebook when I feel a big, warm hand on my back. “Where’s your friend?” I freeze, going rigid. Fucking Mr. Stump.

“Uh, she had an orthodontist appointment. She has braces and all that.” I smile but I know it falters. His blue eyes stare at me and he nods. 

“Can I speak with you after class about her? Nothing bad, I just want to ask you something.” he smiles, and walks off before I answer. Somehow he knows I’ll stay, even if the feeling in my stomach tells me to run the fuck away and take a detention for it because it’s better than accidentally moaning or something while he’s talking. The assignment today is to write a short essay on how the Lord influences your life. Another typical assignment. I know he’s probably trying to keep this class easy; trying to be nice and give us a quick A or B. It’s nice, tiring though. At least he’s trying I guess. Of course, I get my essay done quick. These assignments are no problem, but they also don’t give me anything to distract myself from staring at Mr. Stump. He keeps sticking the tip of his grading pen between his lips and sucking on it absentmindedly. I wonder if he looks like that when he sucks on my cl-

The bell rings before I even finish the thought. Thank God. “Please put all your papers in a stack on the last desk before you leave. (Y/N)? I’d still like to talk with you.” Everyone leaves, but I remain at my desk. I’m scared. What if he knows what I've been saying about him to Carrie? Or worse, what if he can read minds and he’s seen my thoughts of him bending me over his desk and spanking me? I stand up, flatten out my skirt and walk in front of his desk, my hands clasped in front of me. I try to breathe even. 

“You can come around my desk.” he says, still looking at his papers he was grading. I walk around his desk, trying not to let my knees wobble due to being so close to him. 

“Y-Yes, Mr. Stump?” I ask. I shouldn't be thinking bad things at the moment. I’m probably in fucking trouble and I’m thinking about getting rammed by this guy. Jesus, I need to calm down. Maybe I should pray. I do go to a Catholic school after all. 

“Listen,” Mr. Stump swivels his chair around to look at me. He looks at my waist, where his eye level is, then looks up. “This school gives you two school uniform choices, yes? A skirt or a pair of khakis?”

“Uh, for the girls, yes. I thought this was about-”

“Listen, for this class you’re going to have to wear those khakis.” he looks serious, which is strange. He’s always smiling and cheeky, even when assigning assignments. 

“W-why?” I ask, “I don’t even know if mine still fit, Mr. Stump! I ordered a pair freshman year, but only wore my skirt. So I didn't order anymore after that.”

“Well,” he sighs, “you’re going to have to do something. You can’t wear a skirt in my class.”

“Why not?” I cross my arms, beginning to get angry, “all the rest of the girls can! That’s not fair!”

“I know it’s not!” Patrick shouts, running his hands through his hair. The action makes it stick up in the back, different looking from when it’s strictly flat. “I just...I can’t…” he blushes slightly, and bites on the tip of his thumbnail.

“Mr. Stump,” I whine, “please let me wear my skirt. I don’t know what the problem is, but I-”

Mr. Stump interrupts me by placing his right hand on the back of my bare thigh. “Listen...let me try something, Miss, and we’ll see if you can continue wearing your skirt.” I tilt my head, his touch still burning my leg.

“Try what, Mr. Stump?” my breathing is shallow. Mr. Stump chuckles, shakes his head.

“Call me Patrick right now. It’s okay, I won’t report you for doing so. I want you to.”

“Patrick?” I say the name, letting my lips get the feel of it. The name suits him. “Patrick...that’s your first name?” 

Patrick nods, and pats his desk. “Yes, it is. Sit?” he pats the cleared area on his desk again. 

“Isn't that very, I don’t know, rude to sit on your desk?” I ask, chuckling slightly. Patrick doesn't laugh, just stands up and points to his desk again. I sit. Fuck, I’ll do anything. I cross my feet at the ankles, my feet dangling. Patrick goes and shuts the classroom door. I think I hear him lock it, but I could be wrong. He walks back over to me and places his hands on each side of my body. His face is really close and my breath shakes. He gives a little smirk but covers it up by looking at me up and down. 

“The reason I don’t want you wearing a skirt in my class is because I keep thinking about what’s under it.” he says very bluntly. A blush invades my entire body and he reaches up and undoes the top three buttons of my blouse, showing my cleavage and the tops of the cups of my bra. He licks his lips and leans in, barely brushing his lips against my collarbone. “I keep thinking about spreading your legs, pulling your panties off, all that nasty shit teachers can’t do. I feel disgusted by myself for wanting to, but god, when I first saw you yesterday with your perfect tits and long legs I just-” he pulls away, lets his head droop as he sighs. I huff out a breath and pull my hands from my lap and slide them gently into his hair. It’s as soft as I imagined, and fuck if I'm not horny right now. 

“Patrick…” I say, just above a murmur, “I can keep a secret. I mean, I’m sure you can tell I’m attracted to you.” 

Patrick chuckles, leans his head against my chest. “Oh trust me, I could tell. I’m pretty sure the entire fucking class could tell.” I whimper at the sound of him cursing, but he pretends not to hear it. “While I was writing on the board today you were biting your lip like it was your only source of food.” he slides his mouth up my neck again and I tilt my head back, beginning to breathe hard again. “Thirsty little girl, aren't you?”

“Oh yes.” I huff out, practically moaning. Patrick slides his hands up my thighs, holding them tight with his big hands. He’s attacking my neck with soft bites and kisses. “N-not too much, okay? The Sisters will give me detention for h-hickies.” I run my hands up his broad shoulders, feeling his muscles flex under my touch. 

“Doesn't matter,” Patrick’s hot breath puffs against me, “You’re getting detention tomorrow. I have to monitor it and nobody’s going to be there,” he chuckles, sucks a fresh piece of skin, “well, except for you.”

“It’ll ruin my-” Patrick runs his hand up and down my thigh again, and you swallow, “good reputation, Patrick. Please, just keep me after school.” Patrick dips his hands between my thighs, creeping up towards your entrance. 

“Will it raise suspicion of what we’re doing?”

“No, no, teachers do it all the time.”  
Patrick places his palm on my clothed heat and I gasp and buck against his hand. “One more question,” he slides his hand up and down causing only slight friction, “have you ever been touched here before?”

I bite my lip and giggle slightly, clutching tighter to the back of his button-up shirt. “Let’s just say I’m not the best Catholic girl.”

“Yeah?” Patrick continues rubbing through the cotton, “how so?”

“Pre-marital sex has already been done, Mr. Stump. I’m sorry.” I huff out a laugh and Patrick chuffs against my cheek, and gives it a quick kiss. He pulls his hand out from under my skirt, grabs my hips and pulls me forward so i’m standing again. He grabs my cheeks and kisses me hard, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth and letting his tongue taste the inside of my mouth. He does this for a good ten seconds before pulling back. 

“Tomorrow, after school. We’ll finish this. You’re already late for 3rd period, but I’ll give you a note saying you were helping me sort out grades.”

“Nooo!” I whine, pushing my hand against my heat overtop of my skirt to get any fucking friction. I’m practically dripping and he’s going to make me wait?

“No. You have to wait. We’re having an assembly tomorrow, a two-hour one.” I tilt my head, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Oh! It’s about how the school is finally getting a football team! Cool, huh?” he grins big, his hands behind his back. 

I glare. “Don’t pull that innocent shit with me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I give him a small smile though, not being able to leave so harshly. I start to walk away and he grabs my wrist. His hand is clammy but warm and I want it back between my legs.

“Wait,” he says and I shoot him a look.

“Hm?”

Patrick licks his lips, pulls his hand away and shoves it into his pocket. “Nothing,” he shakes his head, “nothing.” I cock an eyebrow, give another small smile and leave. 

When the last bell rings, I finally rush out of the school to my car. I shove my hand underneath my skirt, into my panties and get off twice. 

_____

Mr. Stump’s class is hell. Especially since the assembly is going to start during his class. I told Carrie I wasn't going to the assembly, that I were going to stay behind and do extra credit. Carrie didn't think twice about it and I’m so silently so happy she didn't. The assembly starts at 1:25. It’s currently 1:00 and I’m dying. Patrick is staring at me the entire time, blatantly, as he sucks the end of his pen. I decide, hell, I’m not going to let him get me worked up without a little repercussion. I raise an eyebrow at him and he returns the look. Since I sit right in front of his desk, there’s no way for anyone in front of me to catch the way I pull my skirt up just enough to show him the nice pink lace panties I wore today. Patrick’s eyes widen and a blush invades his cheeks. He looks down, pretends to be grading more papers when the intercom buzzer goes off.

“Good evening students,” the Head Sister, Sister Sharon, says through the speaker, “I would like everyone to report to the auditorium at this time.”

Everyone jumps up and line up at the door. I get up and get last in line, to make it seem like I’m attending. Carrie walks with Jonathan, the boy she’s been wanting to get with since freshman year, near the front. 

“Go on then! Out you go!” Patrick laughs, waving us off. Everyone files out, except for me. As soon as the person in front of me heads out, I shut the door, and lock it. I lean my back against it and Patrick stands up quick, the quickest I've ever seen him move. “Over here, now.” he says. The classroom is quiet with just the two of us in here. I walk over to him and stand with my arms behind my back, my lip between my teeth. 

“Yes, Mr. Stump?” I smirk and Patrick groans, looking me up and down. 

“I want you on top of your desk, legs spread.” He reaches forward and plunges a hand in my hair, jerking me to him. It makes me gasp but I fucking love this, fucking love how he thinks he owns me after only knowing me for three days. “I want you to remember this every time you sit down in my classroom, okay? I want you to think about how we fucking sinned in the classroom of Bible studies, you hear me?” he releases his grip and I plop myself down onto my desktop, spreading my legs. The cold surface on my ass gives me goosebumps, or maybe it’s the way Patrick is getting on his knees. He pushes his hands up my thighs, pushing my skirt up around my waist. “Did you wear these special for today?” Patrick looks up. His eyes are dark due to his dilated pupils, but they still sparkle. 

I nod, tittering at how giddy he is over the idea. “Yeah. They’re new too. I just tore the tag off this morning.” Patrick licks his lips, sighs and grabs them by the hem.

“Too bad they’re going to have cum all over them,” he says before jerking the lace fabric down and attaching that sweet mouth to my pussy. I hiss, running my hands through his hand and pulling a little. He slides his tongue into my hole, then licks up to my clit. He sucks it into his mouth and runs his fingertips over my slit. 

“Shit,” I curse, “fuck yes.” Patrick sucks harder, sliding two fingers into me and slowly pushing them in. He curls them as he flicks his tongue, causing me to moan out. He twists his fingers inside of me, hitting that bundle of nerves I can never seem to reach well enough on my own. I put my legs over his shoulders and he pulls back, his mouth covered in my juices as he pants.

“You taste damn good, baby girl.” he licks his lips and pulls his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth. “You taste like oranges or something. You eat healthy?” 

“Fuck me.” is all I can say. He snickers and leans back, grabbing my foot and pulling my shoe off. He tosses it to the floor and grabs the other one, sliding it off as well. Then, he pulls me by my thighs so my legs are fully in the air and my back is pressed against the desk. He leans forward and plunges his fingers inside of me again, pumping them fast as he curls them. 

“Can you cum from this? I want you to cum right now, baby, do it.” he hisses, speeding up the motion of his hand. I feel warm heat pool into my belly and I huff, nodding. 

“I’m close, Patrick, I can’t-” and Patrick leans down and tongues at my clit again, and I fucking cum. I cum so hard I go rigid, except for my legs tightening around Patrick’s shoulders. I almost scream but my breath catches in my throat, which ends up in me just letting out a relieved moan.

He fucks me through it with his fingers, whispering “yes baby, just like that, god- yes.” I finally calm down, my breathing evening out. My legs are still over his shoulders and i’m still laying on my back across the desk when Patrick wraps his fingers around my hip. He pulls me to my feet, like he did yesterday, but I wobble slightly. My knees are weak from my orgasm and Patrick wraps his arms around my waist. 

“Bend over, hands on the desk, ass in the air.” Patrick says as he leans forward and bites my bottom lip. 

“B-but Patrick,” I stutter out, weak still from the intensity of the first orgasm. 

“Awww,” Patrick sticks his bottom lip out and tilts his head, obviously mocking me, “Is my wittle baby tired after one wittle tiny orgasm? Hmm?” he smirks, looking so smug that you could slap him. 

I lean forward and bite his cheek a little playfully. “Fuck you,” I say, turning around and placing my palms flat on my desk with my ass held high, “I am not tired. Fuck me.” I hear Patrick chuckle darkly, then feel a breeze as he flips my skirt up again.

“Shit, holy shit,” he groans behind me, placing both hands on my ass, “spread your legs for me, pretty girl, holy shit.” I spread a little further, shaking my ass for emphasis.  
“Come on, Patrick, please.” I beg, just wanting to feel him thick inside me. Patrick slaps my ass cheek hard, then grips it, just feeling.

“You’re ass is so nice. I didn't know what I was expecting under that skirt, but it wasn't a pretty pussy and a nice ass.” I shiver at his words, gripping the desk so hard my knuckles turn a pale white.

“Patrick, hurry or we’re going to run out of time and I want you.” I sigh, letting my head droop. I hear him unzip his pants. Patrick holds my hips and slides into me, easy due to him stretching me with his fingers.

“Oh god, oh god,” he pants, “you’re so tight, fuck.”

I lean forward, my head between my arms as he fucks into me. He feels good, still stretching me slightly due to how thick he is. I can tell he’s not very long, but fuck he reach where it feels good. He eventually picks up the pace, pulling all the way out and pushing in really deep. He lays across my back, rubbing my clit as he pounds quickly, obviously trying to get off as fast as possible due to time. I’m so sensitive that it doesn't take me long to go through another heart-racing orgasm. I clench around him, whimpering and throwing my head back as the pleasure washes through my body. I feel him throb inside of me, then the feeling’s gone as I feel him pull out and cum all over my ass. 

I turn my head slightly, eyeing him as he jerks his dick. His cock is pretty. It’s pale all the way up the shaft, then bright pink at the tip. Two large veins run through it, one on top and one underneath. There’s small patches of hair at the base, meaning he’s shaved and manscaped recently. I secretly hope it was for me. 

He lets his hand fall and I shake my ass, annoyed that he came on me. “You’re such a gentleman,” I scoff, “now wipe me off. I don’t want to be sticky the rest of the day.” 

Patrick cocks an eyebrow and I feel as he slides his finger through the mess. He walks around me and shoves his fingers into my mouth. I’m shocked at first, grunting, but I suck off his mess. I know this game. He smiles. “Good girl. Now I’ll wipe you off.” He walks back around me again. I hear his desk drawer open and then I feel a warm tissue cleaning me off. He gives me a quick slap on the ass.

“You’re good to go.” he smiles. I stand up and turn around and he puts his hands softly against my face. He kisses me, softer than he’s kissed me today, or yesterday. He pulls back, giving a quick peck to the side of my mouth, then my cheek. “You were very good. So good.”

I blush, then hear the bell ring. Everyone will be returning to class to gather their things for the next class. I give him one last kiss, a hard one, tangling my fingers in the front of his shirt and moaning into his mouth. “Thanks, Mr. Stump. You were really good, too.”  
Patrick grins and shakes his head, patting your butt gently instead of smacking it hard. You sit down at your desk and pull out your notebook, pretending to be working on something. Patrick sits at his desk and uses his cell phone’s front camera to flatten his hair down due to your fingers running through it. 

“By the way,” Patrick says, and you look up, “just so you know, you've already passed this class. No need to do any...extra credit.” he winks. You blush, remembering the lie you told Carrie. 

“Thanks, but I like to earn my grade.” you snap back, even though you’re cheeks are pink.

“Oh trust me,” Patrick smirks, “you earned it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may have 2 or 3 parts. just so ya know.


End file.
